“Doesn’t seem like a lofty goal, considering the average dweller has what … a single token to their name at any given time?”
I was going to answer, but darkness pressed in on the edges of my vision, and I suddenly felt nauseous. “Gonna vomit.” I lurched to the side and coughed a few times, my throat burning from the bile.
“I got you, Willa. We’ll be back in the room soon.”
Aros’s words were reassuring and as I tilted my head back to rest it on his chest, I must have blacked out for a bit. His movements were lulling, and with escape from pain drawing near, I let that darkness overtake me.
By the time my head was clear again, I realised I was in Aros’s room, tucked in under his thick and fluffy blankets. I stretched out my aching limbs, and a patch of white gauze across my forearm caught my eye. I’d been fixed up and hadn’t even woken for it.
My chest wasn’t hurting too badly, which meant there was at least one Abcurse close by, but none appeared to be in Aros’s room with me. Leveraging myself up, a dizzying surge of pain almost knocked me right back down, but I pushed through it. Pain and I were old friends … though admittedly I’d never been stabbed with a god-blade before. That seemed like an important new development in our relationship, but I was determined to overcome it. There was no time to lay around; we’d just been in a Chaos war and Atti was … dead. That hurt far worse than the cuts, especially since I knew it would kill Emmy when she finally got out of the healing wing. She would sleep while being healed, but after that she wouldn’t be able to escape the truth. There was nothing I could do to shield her from the pain of losing Atti.
I had an idea of how she felt. When Siret had been stabbed. It was … I would not wish that pain on my worst enemy, and now my very best friend would have to go through it, and worse. It wasn’t fair. That evil Chancellor—I was so glad he was dead, except I wished I had been the one to kill him. Coen got that honour.
As though I had conjured him from thought alone, the door opened, and Coen stepped inside. He wasn’t alone though; Aros followed close by, before shutting the door behind him.
“You’re awake.” Aros hurried to my side. I was halfway out of the bed, but he helped me the rest of the way. “How are you feeling?”
I shrugged, before testing my weight on the injured calf. It smarted a little, but didn’t feel too bad. “Pretty good, actually. Maybe the injuries weren’t that bad.”
The guys exchanged a look, before Coen said, “They were deep, and you lost a lot of blood. It would have taken a normal dweller weeks to heal from it. You’re healing at the rate of a god.”
I had expected him to say ‘you’re healing at the rate of a sol,’ since everyone seemed to suspect me of being some kind of secret sol … so I was surprised by the other word that emerged.
“How is that possible?” I held my hands out to the pair, and they stepped into me. One on either side, allowing me to rest my palms on their chests. “How could I be healing like a god, when I’m not even a sol?”
Aros’s eyes were a brilliant gilded colour, shinier than usual. His time on Topia still had his god powers strong. “It’s not just the healing,” he said, watching me carefully. “Back in the clearing, when Emmy was wrestling with that sol, you moved at super-speed. Faster than most gods could, except those with speed as part of their branch of powers.”
That must have been why it took the Abcurses a few clicks to catch up with me. I knew though, if I tried to do it now, I wouldn’t be able to. I hated the unpredictability of those weird bursts of power.
“Did the Persuasion and Trickery work on everyone?” It was very quiet now, because they seemed to be examining me, their stares weighted and intense.
Coen nodded, and I felt a few sparks of his power beneath my palm, which was still pressed to his shirt. I could feel the hard muscles beneath, and it made me want to spread my fingers out, to feel more of him.
“Everything is calm right now,” he rumbled. “Yael will make sure that Emmy is included in the peace talks, but they won’t happen for a few sun-cycles. This academy can only be as strong as its leader, so all the focus will be on the Vice-Chancellor filling that role and picking a new backup.”
My gut clenched as another surge of Coen’s power spiked hot across my palm, pricking down to my wrist. At almost the same time, I felt a flash of heat travelling over my other palm, and both of my arms began to ache.
“What …” My voice croaked, so I had to stop and clear it. “What are you both doing?”
“Your emotions were running high tonight.” Aros was moving closer, his hand wrapping around my wrist. “Every other time you’ve acted like so much more than a dweller …”
“Your emotions were running high,” Coen finished.
And then Aros’s grip of my wrist tightened, and he was moving my hand. My throat dried up and my ever-present gift for chatter fizzled out. He dragged my hand down over his muscled torso, and I visibly gulped. Only a few rotations ago, I would have been all over Aros in an attempt to soothe the soul-link, and he would have been gently setting me aside, but now he was encouraging me, and I didn’t know what to do. He seemed to realise this, because a chuckle rumbled out of him and then he was slipping my hand beneath his shirt. Hard, warm skin flattened out beneath my fingertips, and his eyes flashed at me, another burst of heat rushing up my arm. It was heavy and hot, and it made my head spin—but almost as soon as it happened, a similar burst of pain prickled through me, turning the slow drag of feeling into a sharp rush. It was as though Coen had used his Pain to keep me present. To keep me from floating away in Aros’s Seduction.
“What are we talking about here?” I asked, my voice scratchy. I curled my hand up into a fist against Aros’s stomach, because I was confused, and they were overwhelming me with sensation.
“We’re going to keep going until you break.” That had been from Coen, whispered against the top of my head. “And then we’re going to push a little harder. We’re going to keep pushing until that locked-down power comes flooding out—”
“That seems like a really bad idea—” I began shakily, but he cut me off.
“Until you break.” This time, his voice was rough, and his hand was in my hair, pulling my head back. “Don’t you want that?” There was a smile in his voice, but it wasn’t the kind of smile that I was used to. Or the kind of voice that I was used to.
This felt like a secret. As though he knew something about me that not even I knew.
“She definitely wants that,” Aros muttered, his hand slipping from my wrist, further up my arm.
“Well then she should tell me she wants it.” Coen was leaning over me now, his face looming down on mine, his focus flicking between my eyes before settling on my lips. “Tell me, Willa.” A quick tug on my hair.
“Um, fuck,” I muttered. Probably not the answer he was looking for.